Of Quadruplets and Countries
by AlfredFWilliams
Summary: It sucks I know and I'm sorry. This is a story where the Reader is 4 characters literally running out of their lives and into the FACE family.


**Alrighty, to start off, I need to tell you guys something. I need help. I wrote these stories years ago and they are not good. I would go so far as to say that they are crap. I need your help to make them not crap. Please comment to tell me what is wrong with them or something I could do to make the story better. Thank you and good day.**

Chapter 1

Mute

When you opened your eyes, you found the darkness that was once behind your eyelids had stayed to infect your vision. At first, you don't remember where you are, then the memory sparks and you remember that you are in some shallow cave. You drop down and curl up into a ball, as small as you can, to conserve what warmth you have and to hide yourself from whatever may be waiting in the darkness for you just to let down your guard.

A few minutes pass with no sounds whatsoever; you can't even hear your own breathing. Then, without a warning, a large hand fiercely lands on your arm jolting you out of your daze.

The stench of something burning fills your lungs and you wrinkle your nose to show your displeasure. A bright light shines from behind you and you can see four large shadows, as well and one smaller shadow that you take to be the hand on your arm, plastered on a cave wall in front of you.

A large shadow shrunk in size as footsteps indicated someone walking up to where you lay. You don't dare look back at the strangers and the hand you felt on you before lifted and one of two small shadows grew as the stranger stepped back toward the light. A small and kind voice greeted me. "Hello there, my name is Matthew. What is your name child?"

You thought about his question for a second, and then you turned to the man behind you. His purple eyes glimmered and his blonde hair fell in waves about his shoulders, you feel as if you've seen him before but can't seem to place where. You tried to form words with your tiny mouth. Gravel and sharp rocks scraped down your arm as you shot up realizing that you cannot make any sound no matter how hard your little tiny lungs push to let out even just a squeak. Matthew's facial expression shows you that he knows how to help you in your fight for speech. He turned to his colleagues and you hear him ask one that he called Alfred to get him a red and white bag. As you watch Matthew dig through the bag, you get excited and move so you are kneeling in front of Matthew. You watch in wonder as he pulls out a pen and notepad. One question was asked before you know exactly what he is going to do. "Do you know how to write in English?" a question, asked by the man Matthew called Alfred, that rung in your ears because of the new and unexpected volume.

You nod and the writing supplies lower down to you. You grab them with anticipation and begin to write on the notepad with a trembling hand and sloppy handwriting. You write your name first and show the 4 men who gasp and one with long hair falls back. You are surprised because all you wrote is; _(F/N_ Face _(L/N)_. You give a questioning look to Matthew, who had now moved so he was holding you from behind. You can't really read his expression so you take the paper back and write; what is wrong? Why are they so shocked? Are you alright Matthew? He took the paper and took his sweet time reading it. Then, a smile lights his face and he says, "It's alright, I am fine. You aren't to blame." Can you tell me what's wrong, please?

Matthew sighs and begins to tell you the story about what happened. "Recently, my brother, Alfred, and I had gone off to just hang out with each other. We went to a baseball game, then I felt left out so we went to a hockey game as well. Soon afterward, we ran into Papa, Francis, and Arthur; literally, Alfred and I were reenacting a part of the hockey game and Alfred ran into Papa. Anyway, Arthur dropped something that looked like a map so, it only makes sense, and the Alfred would be the one to pick it up. He pleaded with Arthur and Papa to let us in on whatever they were doing. After a few hours of earplugs, Papa finally convinced Arthur to lets us into their hunt.

"The map let to a riddle that basically said that your initials would eventually destroy us; at least, that is the extremely short and un-riddled version, it even had your name listed. Your middle name, do you know what it stands for?" You shake your head slowly and look back to Matthew and you can see him glaring at the fight and you feel the start of tears sting your eyes.

If someone so kind and gentle was angry, you felt you had a right to be upset, even though you hate those kinds of people, those who started crying just because they saw people fighting, normally you are stronger than this, but you can't help it. You turn back to look at the other 3 people fighting and the tears threaten to show themselves but you do nothing to stop them. You hear Matthew talking to you from behind, "You middle name is and acronym for the countries we represent, for example, the 'c' in face is for me, Canada, do you understand?" You nod and look up at a now smiling Matthew.

You smiled back but still couldn't stop the tears for some reason; you feel them roll down your cheeks. Matthew noticed this and he turned you around so you were facing him, then he pulled you toward him and gave you a hug, your tears immediately soak into the fabric of his shirt and it soon it drenched. The smell from his shirt fills your lungs and lulls you to a time you once knew, a time when everything was alright. You start to drift off to the smell of maple syrup and the sound of a distant argument.


End file.
